


Not Me

by SilverMidnight



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Drug Abuse, Gen, Stealing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:04:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2058591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMidnight/pseuds/SilverMidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chase challenges himself to stealing House's Vicodin. It doesn't turn out the way he hopes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing. Review. Kudos?

"Dr. Chase," a pharmacist whose name I couldn't remember smiled, "How can I help you?"

"Prescription for Vicodin," I replied smiling back at the woman.

A blush came to the woman's cheeks as she turned to get the pills. When she turned around the smile fell from my lips as I thought about exactly what I was going to do.

This was illegal and wrong in so many different ways that I didn't even really want to think about it. That didn't mean that I was going to stop. I couldn't stop. Not anymore. Not that I actually had tried to.

Now that was something I didn't really even want to try to do. Stop. As fearful and horrible I felt about all of this I knew that I wasn't strong enough to even truly think about stopping any of this. Not now. Not ever.

As the pharmacist turned back around I put the smile back on before picking up a pen. I made sure it looked like I was signing for the pills just to make sure no questions were asked.

With another smile I walked off with a bottle of pills rattling in my pocket. One that I knew the pharmacist thought were for House. One that I was going to do everything to make sure House knew nothing about.

No, these pills were for me and me alone. Just like the last bottle had been just for myself. Just like the bottle that came after this would be just for myself. No one was ever going to know about this.

It had started with a dare. Well, not really a dare but a challenge I gave to myself. I needed to see what would happen if I took one of House's spare bottles. He had so many I wanted to know what he would do.

For the most part I knew where the older man kept all of his backup bottles so the only thing I had to really do was figure out which bottle I should take. Once I had that I took the bottle and stored it in my apartment.

I don't know how it happened but House hadn't noticed they were missing. So many times I had wanted to tell him what I had done just so I could see his reaction to everything.

It wasn't until a few days later, after the pills sat in my medicine cabinet that I found that I couldn't stop thinking about them. Which, in retrospect, had been an extremely bad idea.

Since I had taken the pills I had been watching House closely for any sign that he knew and was just plotting something. But when nothing came for almost a week I knew I was in the clear.

Still, the more I watched the older doctor the more I noticed just how many pills I saw him take. It was the first time that I actually paid attention to the real number of pills he took in one day.

And by the time I finally collapsed onto my couch I couldn't stop my brain from wondering what House felt when he took those pills. What would I feel like if I took them?

I took a pill that night and every little pain I had been feeling was gone. I ended up doing things I had been putting off before actually falling asleep easily. Honestly, I hadn't felt that good in a long time.

It wasn't until I woke up the next day that I realized how stupid I had been. I had taken a highly addicting pill, that I had stolen from my boss, for no reason besides wanting to know what it felt like.

I told myself that it was completely idiotic and that I was never going to do it again. And I didn't touch the pills again, not even to put them back in the medicine cabinet,.

Though in the back of my mind all I could think was how amazing I had felt for those few hours. It was a rush that I never thought I'd get to feel in my life time. One I didn't know I wanted.

After everything that had happened with my Mother I had told myself I would never let myself go down that path. It was a reason I did everything I could to avoid pills and alcohol.

I kept that voice in my mind reminding of everything that woman had done to me while she was drunk. And it worked. For awhile. Well, it worked for about a week and I took another pill.

In my defense it had been a bad week. The team had a case, but there had been a major car accident and all hands were on deck. In the end I lost five patients, two of them being children.

I ended up staying at the hospital with little to no sleep for three days before we finally figured out the patient had been lying to us the entire time and I was able to go home.

And as soon as the door closed behind me I found myself picking up the pills. I didn't actually think about what I was doing. All I knew was the pills made me feel better and I needed that. It was just because of the week.

Anyway, I was in pain. My head felt like it was going to split open and I knew that it was not going to be easy to sleep unless I took something to help me. Who cared if I had sleeping pills I could use instead?

It wasn't a big deal or anything. Just to help me out. And if I did the same thing the next week and the next and then five days later and then four days, until I was taking one a day, it meant nothing.

I just needed something to relax me at night and it wasn't affecting how I worked. At least it wasn't until I was down to my last few pills. I don't know why, but it felt like my heart was going to stop when I found that out.

Stealing some from House again was out of the question. I really didn't want to try to explain it if I did get caught. So I did the second best thing. I wrote a script and got it filled while making sure not to leave a trail pointing to me.

And now I'm here. Walking around the hospital, my work, with a bottle of Vicodin, that I had basically stolen, in my pocket and the demanding urge to take a pill right now.

Shaking my head I quickly made my way up to Diagnostics. I would be off work in five hours and I could take one then. Anyway, it's not like I _needed_ a pill I just wanted one.

I wasn't addicted to them. They just helped me get through the night. That was all. I didn't have to take them. I wanted to. There was a huge difference between what I was doing and what an addict did.

"Hey Chase," Cameron smiled walking through the door right after me and handing me a case file, "Think we got a case."

As I sat in my normal seat and opened the file. I have no idea why I was actually looking at it. If House wanted the case it was up to him, but Cameron had a tendency to have me look over them before she gave them to him.

I think she figured that since I worked with House longer than anyone else he wasn't going to be as nasty towards me as them. Oh, how she was wrong. He was even nastier.

Honestly I had no idea why House did some of the things he did to me. Part of me truly wondered if the older man hated me that much or if there was something else going on that I just didn't get.

Shaking my head I tried to focus my attention on the file in front of me, but the only thing I could think of was the pills in my pocket. They were just innocently waiting for me to take them.

I felt myself blink a few times as my hand twitched towards the bottle. Everything in me was telling me that I should take a pill. That everything would be better if I just took a pill.

Would it be so bad if I took one now? As soon as I did I knew that I'd feel better and be a lot more focused. That was something that I needed for this job. Still, this was taking a drug at work. Was it worth it?

"Chase!" a voice yelled next to my ear.

The voice caused me to jump up, but I had been so startled that I ended up tipping over the chair and falling backwards. Blinking a few more times I slowly stood up before looking at Cameron.

She looked so worried about me at that moment and usually that was something I could brush off, but for some reason this time I felt myself getting extremely angry about it.

I wasn't one of her pet projects or someone that needed to be saved. No, right now I needed…All I needed to do right now was take one little pill and everything would go back to normal.

"Chase," Cameron started to say.

"I'll be back," I interrupted before walking out of the room quickly and into the first men's room I saw.

Moving quickly I went into an empty stall and took the Vicodin out of my pocket. Was I really about to take a pill while I was at work? Was I really that desperate to do that?

I let out a soft sigh before opening the bottle and taking one out. This wasn't good. I knew that in my mind, but right now I could honestly say that I really didn't care about how dangerous and stupid this was.

After dry swallowing the pill I put the bottle back in my pocket and slowly made my way back into Diagnostics. If I acted like I was completely fine than everyone else would think I was fine too. Right?

"Wombat," House commented as soon as I walked through the door effectively knocking me out of my thoughts, "Go do my clinic hours or find a case. Whichever. I'm not picky."


	2. Chapter 2

"Did you hear me, House?" Cameron asked glaring slightly at me.

Staring at the woman in front of me I wondered, not for the first time, why I hired her. Yes, she was attractive, but she was more annoying than helpful most of the time. Was it really worth it?

And then she gave me the look that was close to Cuddy's and I remembered why. I knew I was extreme sometimes. I knew that I needed someone that was on the other side of the spectrum. Why did it have to be her?

That was besides the point right now. The point was that she thought that there was something wrong with my Wombat. Which was completely and utterly ridiculous. I would know if something was wrong with him.

Though it didn't look like it Chase was my favorite. It was why I spent as much time as I did on him. I saw a lot of potential in him. Anyway, if the man could handle me for the past five years than he could handle basically anything.

I didn't get why everyone thought I disliked him. Anyone who actually took the time to look at his and my relationship would see what I was doing. Of course that meant that Wilson knew what was going on.

My friend understood that me acting like this was me getting someone ready to take over my job. He was the one that would eventually take over for me if I ever retired,  _unlikely_ , or died,  _most likely_.

Because of this I knew that she was probably overreacting. Still there had to be some reason she had come to me. One I had to look into it. Because if Chase was anything like me, something Wilson liked to say and something I hated to think about, he was very good at hiding.

"You think there's something wrong with the littlest duckling," I responded my voice taking on its normal sarcastic tone, "Is this the prelim before you ask him to marry you? If I find something wrong with him does that mean I don't have to get you a wedding gift? Because I can fake a condition just give me the symptoms you want him to have, but I can never find a good gravy boat."

Cameron's glare intensified before she walked off. And that is where she stopped being like Cuddy. The older woman would never walk away if she thought I needed to do something to help someone else.

If Cuddy had said that she thought something was wrong with Chase she would have stood there as I called him into my office and talked to him. Maybe one day Cameron would figure that out.

After enough time passed I stood up and made my way to the clinic. It was the easiest place to corner Chase. If Cameron was right I was going to have to corner the blond and the sooner the better.

It wasn't hard to figure out which room the younger doctor was in. A patient was about to enter the room, but with a glare I had them going back to their chair. Smirking to myself I walked into the room and locked the door behind me.

"House?" Chase questioned in confusion, "Did you find a case?"

"Would I be done here if I did?" I snarked pushing him off the chair, "The answer's no if that wasn't obvious."

"It was. Why are you here then? Cuddy have something on you forcing you to do your own hours?"

"Stop guessing. You need to use the few brain cells you have when we actually have a case. Cameron told me about your little incident."

The only sign I saw that the Australian heard me was the tightening of his jaw. Okay, so Cameron was right. There was something going on with Chase. Damn it, I hated admitting someone else was right.

Sighing I tapped my cane against the floor waiting for him to break. It wouldn't take that long. He was god, but I was better. Though I knew it wasn't going to last much longer.

The silence was almost deafening as the blond shifted from one foot to the other. for a moment I thought I was hearing things, but when he moved I heard it once more.

There was no way I was hearing correctly. Chase was too smart to do something like that. Unless there was something else going on. No, he had finally lost his mind.

"How long?" I spoke keeping the emotion from my voice.

"What are you..." Chase started.

"Don't. I can hear the pills in your pocket."

The normally tan face paled at the accusation. Nodding my head I slipped out of the chair slowly before using my cane to pin him to the wall.

I don't know why but part of me was hoping the blond would fight, or at least deny, what I was saying. Instead he stood there in defeat.

Taking a step forward I reached into the other doctors pocket and pulled out the pills. My stomach dropped even more seeing the label say they were Vicodin.

"You're not me, Chase," I shook my head.

"I wasn't trying to be you," the doctor whispered, "I was...It was a bet."

"A bet? To what? To see how long it would take to become addicted? To see how long it would take me to say something? What was the bet, Chase?"

"To see if you'd notice they were missing."

I stared at the younger man in confusion before looking at the date on the bottle. It read that he had gotten the pills that day. Which meant that...

"How many bottles before this?" I questioned staring at the pills.

"One," Chase offered, "I didn't mean to. I just wanted to see if you'd notice a bottle missing from your stash."

"So you stole a bottle of Vicodin and thought there would be no harm in taking them?"

"I never planned on taking them, House. Please, you have to believe me. I just had a bad day and they were next to my Aspirin. I took a Vicodin instead. In the morning I called myself an idiot and basically everything you're thinking and swore I wouldn't touch them. And I didn't..."

"Until the next bad day."

"I tried, House. I did. I didn't want to take them. They were just so inviting. I was wrong. God, I was wrong. All those years with my Mom. I shouldn't have don't what I did. I should have understood."

The overwhelming urge to hit the other man filled me at his words. One of the few things that never changed was how he would never end up like his mother.

Moving quickly I grabbed the blond's arm and pulled him out of the room. I knew that I was being rough, but it was a miracle I hadn't lost control yet.

When we got to my office I locked both doors and pulled the blinds. Once that was done I turned on my music making sure to drown out our conversation.

"When was the last time you took one?" I asked putting them on my desk.

"A little over three hours ago," Chase spoke refusing to look at me.

"How many times have you been high at work?"

"Today's the first."

"How does it feel?"

I watched Chase lick his lips a small smile twitching on his face as he thought back. I knew what he was thinking. I used to feel the same way when I first started.

Chase looked up suddenly his eyes pleading with me. Even though he had just taken a pill he wanted another. How hadn't I figured this out before?

I've been watching the younger doctor for years grow into the man I, could barely stand at points in time, knew he'd be. I really hated being wrong.

"I need them," Chase suddenly said.

"You're addicted to them," I glared before rolling my eyes, "And everyone thought Foreman wold follow in my cane prints."

"House, please, give me my pills back."

"I think I'll keep them. Make up for the one you stole."

"I can get another. They'll still think it's for you anyway."

"Damn it, Chase! This is over. You're done. No more pills."

Chase glared at me when I finished yelling. It was so odd seeing his face go from sadness to anger that quickly. It was then I realized this wold be harder than I thought.

"Give me the pills, House," Chase demanded standing up.

"No," I said childishly crossing my arms.

"It's not affecting my work so you have no say. Now give me the pills!"

I stared incredulously at the younger man as he yelled. In all the years working with Chase he never yelled at me like that. By the wide ocean blue eyes he knew that as well.

"House," Chase whispered swallowing roughly, "I'm so...I shouldn't...Please, just give them back."

Hearing the younger man plead for the pills was one of the worst things I had heard. From here on out it was just going to get worse no matter how much I wanted to give in.

Picking the pills up once more I weighed the bottle in my hand. It wouldn't be that difficult to hand the pills back and forget about all of this.

A slightly shaky tan hand suddenly came in my line of view. He said he had just taken a pill. He shouldn't be shaking yet.

"Go home and pack a bag," I said slipping the pills into my pocket, "You and I are taking the weekend."

Chase stared at me in horror when I said that. I expected more yelling and pleading from the blond only for him to punch me in the face causing me to fall on my ass.

Staring up at the other man I waited a moment for his actions to sink in as I thought about what I was supposed to do next.

"House," Chase suddenly fell to his knees next to me, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to...I just wanted the...I'm so sorry, House."

"You're not me, Chase," I spoke staring into his eyes, "You're not your mother. You need to stop."

Chase buried his face in his hands his whole body shaking though there was no tears. I waited in silence for the doctor to speak.

"Withdrawal is hell," Chase cleared his throat staring at me.

"I know," I nodded in agreement, "I've been there."

"And you'll help me? Why?"

"Because you're not me."


End file.
